white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3)

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white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3) Page 14

by Sara Baysinger

A look of relief crosses Mcallister’s face before he nods and hands the rod to Rain. He walks out of the room, but not before I catch a glimpse of his trembling hands. Rain walks straight to Titus, balls his hand into a fist and punches him in the stomach. Titus’s eyes bulge and he coughs up more phlegm and blood that dribbles down to his forehead. Rain smirks and crosses the room, sets the rod down, and begins exploring his options, picking up small tools and fiddling around with them while muttering, “what have we here” and “oh this won’t do” before setting them down. Finally, he picks up a small metal thing, turns toward Titus, and grins a sadistic grin.

  “Your sister couldn’t handle her precious fingernails being ripped off. Let’s see how you do, shall we?”

  My stomach twists at the memory of the caverns, the way Rain pinned me against the wall and dug out my fingernail with a rusty pocket knife. The pain was excruciating. It broke me. My fingernail is just now beginning to regrow, but that memory will burn in my mind forever.

  Rain grabs one of Titus’s fingers and shoves the metal thing on it and if I thought Titus’s screams were bad before, I was wrong. His screams pierce my eardrums, and I fight the urge to cover my ears. Cruel pleasure has replaced Rain’s usual frown. This might be the first time I’ve actually seen him…happy. It scares me. It makes me wonder what sorts of things he has planned when he kills me…and how much pleasure that will bring him.

  “I can’t watch anymore,” I finally say, my voice barely heard above the screams. “Walker, supervise. Make sure Rain doesn’t kill Titus, will you?”

  Walker nods, his eyes grave. “Of course.”

  I walk out of the room, Titus’s screams echoing behind me in a plea for help, and all I can think is, I should have had Rain torture him in the first place.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AURORA

  I head to my office. I would rather go to my room. It’s my safe haven, the one place where no one will disturb me. But I need to get over my need for privacy and work on the laundry list of things this country needs done. But I can’t get the picture of Mcallister’s discomfort out of my head. He almost looked…devastated. Why? Does he actually like Titus? Does he pity him? Because I thought he wanted Titus dead. By the time I arrive at my office on the second floor, I decide I have to know, and call him in on my phoneband.

  While I wait, I sit at my desk and massage my temples. So much to do. Not enough time.

  A knock sounds at my door, making me jump. “Come in.”

  Mcallister steps in. He still looks a bit unsettled.

  “You summoned me?” he asks with a bow.

  “Yes.” Bite my lip, feeling guilty at the way he says summoned.

  He stands tall, chin held high, dark eyes void of emotion, waiting, and I wish he would just be him right now. With his arms locked behind his back and his eyes staring blankly ahead, he plays the part of a brainless Defender well. Too well. No wonder he had everyone fooled. But why does he have to act that part now? Does it just come naturally?

  I clear my throat. “Are you…are you okay?”

  “Yes, Chief.”

  “Look at me, Mcallister.”

  He shifts his eyes to mine.

  “Speak plainly,” I press. “There was something on your mind while you were torturing Titus.”

  “Nothing was wrong, Chief.”

  I breathe in through my nose, then release it. “James.”

  His eyes snap at the familiar way I address him, and I catch a quick glimpse of his pain.

  “Tell me, please.” I stand. “Talk to me. Something’s wrong.”

  His throat convulses in a swallow. He blinks, looks away, and the walls come down as he finally says, “I used to…I used to work in the torture chamber.”

  I don’t say anything, but wait for him to continue.

  He shifts on his feet and looks at the floor. “I worked there for a year before Rain finally had me promoted.” He shrugs. “It really took a toll on me, torturing people. Some worked with the Resurgence, and I knew it was completely unjustified. Others I didn’t even know, but I knew they were innocent.” He takes a shaky breath. “I promised myself…I promised myself that I would never torture anyone again, even if it was a direct order from Titus.”

  I shake my head. “Those were innocent people, Mcallister. Of course it was hard to torture them. Titus isn’t innocent like them. He’s a monster.”

  “I know he’s a monster.” His black eyes snap to mine. “I know this is the only way to get anything out of him. But that doesn’t stop the memories from haunting me. That doesn’t stop the screams of past victims from echoing around in my head.”

  My heart suddenly feels heavy with guilt. Because he wouldn’t have even done this for Titus, which means he would have rather died than torture another being.

  And yet, he did it for me.

  “I’m…so sorry, Mcallister.” An unexpected ache builds in my chest. “I wish you would have told me.”

  “Right after you restored my Defenderhood?” He offers a half smile.

  I shrug. “You can talk to me, you know. You’re one of my only friends, remember? You can pretty much tell me whatever, and I’ll listen.”

  He nods. “I know.”

  Then why don’t you act like it? I want to ask. He was such a good companion in the caverns. He was my only friend there, too, even though he was instructed to watch me and keep me from running off. I didn’t even want to try to run away from him, because I didn’t want to get him trouble. But since coming back to Frankfort, since I became chief, he’s put up a wall. And now that he’s a Defender and sworn to serve the chief, the wall is higher, stronger, and I hate it. I might not have restored his Defenderhood if I knew it would make him so closed off.

  My phoneband illuminates. I nod at Mcallister. “You may go. Take the rest of the day off.”

  “Yes, Chief.” He bows and walks out.

  I click on my phoneband. “Yes?”

  “Rain here,” an annoyingly musical voice says through the speaker.

  “Rain?” he must have Walker’s phoneband. “What’s the word?”

  “I have the information you need.”

  My breath hitches. “You know where Gideon is?”

  “Yeppers.”

  “Where?” I rise to my feet. “Is he okay? Is he in Ky?”

  “Whoa, whoa. How about we sit down, I’ll tell you my terms, and then I’ll tell you where your son is.”

  Oh, no. Not this again. Why does everyone want to use Gideon’s location against me?

  I grit my teeth. “Come to my office. And bring Walker with you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  RAIN

  Wait till Aurora hears what I have to say. Titus just did me a huge favor, and he knows it. But he also knew it would keep me from voting for his immediate execution.

  After Walker knocks, we step into the chief’s office. Aurora is sitting at her magnificent desk that was once Titus’s, looking just as smug and a little more regal.

  “Have a seat,” Aurora says, gesturing to the chairs across her desk. Papers are laid out before her, but she makes no move to hide them. Smart move. Means she’s got nothing to hide.

  “You said you had information for me? About Gideon?” She looks at me, hopeful, and for a brief moment, she appears vulnerable, almost lost. She’s an open book, and only I have the information that could either make or break her. And for the briefest instant, I really don’t want to break her.

  Pull yourself together.

  “I know exactly where he is.”

  She leans forward, her eyes begging me to speak. There might be a tear trying to fight through, but I’m probably seeing things.

  “And?” she whispers.

  “Like I said: I have some terms I’d like to run by you before I give you such precious information.”

  Her eyes harden, and she looks at Walker. “Where’s Gideon?”

  Walker closes his eyes in de
feat. “Titus…Titus wouldn’t…”

  Oh, shoddy rot. Do I have to break it to her? I look at her and flash my half-grin. “Titus wouldn’t tell me unless Walker left the room.” I shrug and pucker my lip out in false pity. “Looks like you’ll have to agree to my terms, vixen.”

  “Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and glares at me. “Fine. Rain. What are your shoddy terms?”

  I grin. Lean back in my chair. Perch one ankle on my knee and cross my arms behind my head. “So glad you asked. I would like my freedom to come and go from Ky as I please. Y’know. Like a free person.”

  Her lips curls up in pure disgust. “That’s a horrible idea. The Indy Tribe wouldn’t even let you return to Ky if you stepped into their territory.”

  “And,” I add. “I would just love to have my phoneband back.”

  “Your phoneband?”

  “Yep.”

  She heaves out a heavy sigh and looks at Walker, as if he could offer advice or shut me up, I’m not sure which, but I lift a finger before he can speak. “Lastly.”

  She looks at me, her eyes widening in pure, unadulterated annoyance.

  “I want you to distribute the antitoxin.” I narrow my eyes and lean forward. “Tomorrow.”

  “It’ll take a whole month to distribute the antitoxin.”

  “Starting tomorrow, then.”

  She looks at the ceiling and flops back in her chair. “Walker.”

  “Yes?”

  “Can I have a moment alone with Rain?”

  “Of course.” Walker looks at me. “You lay one finger on her, and I’ll have your head.”

  “I’m really feeling the love, Jones.”

  “She’s my niece and your chief. One finger, Rain—”

  “Fine. I’ll lay off.” I look at Aurora and roll my eyes. “Holy Crawford. I thought he was bad in the caverns. Sheesh. Go take a hot shower or something, Walker, to ward off your cranky—”

  “He’s gone,” Aurora says in a bored voice.

  I glance over my shoulder to empty space and closed door. “Oh. So he is.” Smirking, I turn back around, but Aurora isn’t smiling.

  She stands up, glaring at me, and the look in her eyes is enough to make me almost regret withholding any information from her.

  “I plan to distribute the antitoxin, Rain.” Her words are squeezed through gritted teeth. “But not everything can be done on your terms.”

  Now my humor vanishes and I rise to my feet. “So, what. Everything is going to be done on your terms? It doesn’t matter what your people want, much less what your people need. Y’know. Like food, and, um, I don’t know, free will? You want to distribute the antitoxin when it’s beneficial to you? When it’ll gain you some popularity points? What kind of chief does that make you, then, Aurora?” I snort and give her a once over. “You’re no better than Titus.”

  Fire emanates from her eyes, and for the briefest instant, she looks exactly. Like. Ember. And that dull ache transforms into a deep, painful longing. And then hatred. A deep desire to strangle Aurora for looking anything like the innocent, beautiful, outspoken girl that I loved, comes over me, and I have to remember to breathe.

  To think.

  To wait.

  Because the time will come, but now is not that time.

  “Tell me where Gideon is.”

  “Distribute the antitoxin, and you have my word, I’ll tell you. I’ll even take you to him myself.”

  There it is. The vulnerability. A part of Aurora I hardly ever see. The deceptiveness flashes out of her eyes, and what appears in its place is a defenseless lost girl who is too terrified to face the world but too strong to back down.

  “You know his exact location?” she breathes.

  “Sure do.”

  “Where?”

  “Terms, vixen.”

  She looks at the floor, her jaw clenching and unclenching. “How can I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “You can’t.”

  Her eyes flash in my direction.

  “How can I know Titus gave me the correct information? I don’t. But I suppose trust has to start somewhere. It had to start with me agreeing to spare Titus's life in return for this information.” I wink at her. “He would be dead now, otherwise.”

  “So, what, you’re a team now? How quickly your switch sides, Rain Turner.”

  I roll my eyes. “And trust,” I continue, “begins with you agreeing to my terms with the hope that I’ll tell you where your son is.”

  “Which you don’t even know if Titus told you right.”

  “Correct.”

  She sits down and stares blankly at her desk. “You and your games.” She lifts her eyes to mine. “You and Titus both make me sick.”

  “Not as sick as you make me.”

  “Doubtful.”

  I cross my arms and lean my hip against her desk, waiting. I stare down at her in an attempt to intimidate her, make her feel weak and rush a response out of her, but while I stare, I keep catching these similarities she has with Ember. The way she bites her lip while she thinks. The way she picks at her nails. The way her eyes dart this way and that as if trying to catch a thought. And I think about how Ember gave up her life for this witch. I think of how Ember really truly wanted Aurora to live so she could lead Ky to a better place, and how Aurora is failing miserably to meet those expectations. And a certain rage rises up until I can’t stop the next words from leaving my mouth.

  “How does it feel to betray the trust of someone who laid down her life for you?”

  She looks at me, and it’s vulnerability at its finest. Uncertainty weaves into her eyes and now her lip is white from her biting it so hard. But then her eyes harden and she says, “Don’t bring Ember into this.”

  I smirk and straighten. “Why not? It’s not like her death affected you in any way, except by sparing your life and giving you the throne.”

  “She—she was my sister.”

  “Whom you hated.” I shake my head and drag my hand down the length of my face. “Can’t fool me, Aurora. If you had any respect for Ember, you would have used the extra days she gave to you live to make a real difference in Ky.”

  “You don’t understand the pressure. Politicians are pulling at me from every side—”

  “Wanting things that don’t matter. But who’s chief? You? Or them?”

  Her nose contorts and she looks at the fireplace. Titus always had a fire going. Not that he needed it, since it’s always seventy two degrees in Frankfort. But he did it for show. For comfort. Wasted resources on a fire that was to burn every day, all day long.

  But the fire pit is empty now. No wood burns.

  “I’ll do it.”

  I look sharply at her. “What?”

  She looks at me. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning to distribute the antitoxin.” She shrugs. “It’ll be nice to get away from Frankfort for a while.”

  “Perfect.”

  “But you’ll come with me.”

  I almost choke. “No. No way I’m coming with you. I can hardly stand being in the same building with you, much less the same vehicle—”

  “I want you to see me distributing the antitoxin so that you can tell the Resurgence and the Indy tribe that you saw me yourself—and helped.”

  “Then make Walker go with you.”

  “They don’t trust Walker as much as they trust you. And besides, I have to leave Walker behind to keep things under control. Lord knows I can’t trust a politician to do it. Once this city realizes I’m gone, they’re going to throw a fit.” She furrows her brows. “Which means I’ll have to leave Mcallister behind, too, to keep the Defenders in line.”

  That is a good point. But, shoot. I was hoping to escape Frankfort and head to Indy while she was busy distributing the antitoxin.

  “Besides,” she says. “This is your passion. You’re the one who wants this done right away. Haven’t you waited years for this moment?” She smiles a little. “I’ll g
ive you all the credit for setting the Proletariats free.”

  I could care less for praise or fame. But maybe it would be good to hang around, make sure she does what she promised. This is what I dedicated my life to, after all.

  “I’ll go,” I say. “But you have to keep your word that I’m free to go if I please. No Defenders to watch over me while I sleep. No permission necessary to, I don’t know, go on a shoddy walk. I’m a free person.”

  She thinks for a moment, then nods. “Fine. You’re free. Now, tell me where Gideon is.”

  I burst out laughing. “Seriously? You think I’m stupid? No way I’m telling you where your son is until you carry out your word.”

  Her mouth drops open. “How can I trust you?”

  “I told ya. Trust starts somewhere.”

  “Ugh!” Her eyes are once again aflame with passion and heated anger and something else. A haunted look of despair. I look away before I feel too guilty. She rises to her feet, her fists balled. “Get out.” Her voice is a quiet whisper.

  “My phoneband.”

  She narrows her eyes, and I can see the thin sheen of tears just before she looks away. She’s about to break. She’s about to fall apart, and she doesn’t want me to witness it. Holy Crawford, I don’t want to witness it. She jerks open a drawer, digs around, and pulls out my phoneband, then tosses it at me so hard it bounces off my chest and falls to the ground. I bend down to pick it up, but when I straighten, she’s sitting at the desk, palms pressed against her eyes that do little to stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

  “Now leave,” she seethes, lowering her palms.

  I utter a curse. Just the look in her eyes tears my heart open, rips it to shreds, though I have no idea why. So I bow and say, “With pleasure,” then turn to leave.

  “Meet me in the capitol lobby, sunup.”

  “Done.”

  I don’t turn around, don’t dare face the eyes that look entirely too much like Ember’s, even if they are the wrong color.

  Because when Ember cried like that.

  When Ember looked like she was about to break.

  I would have given her the universe to make it better.

 

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